


First Day on the Job

by princessoftheworlds



Series: Rogers and Barnes Law [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Nelson and Murdock AU (sorta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: Rogers and Barnes Law finally open their doors. James gets a call from an old friend, and the firm acquires their first client.





	First Day on the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt suggested by my wonderful friend and mentor [marleymortis](http://marleymortis.tumblr.com/). This fic sat in my Google Drive for about a month, because I wasn't sure how to post it. I finally decided to do individual installments. I've got a half-written third installment, which may end up completed if people want. I don't really have plans for this series, but let's see if anyone actually reads it first??????

“Move it a little bit more to the left,” Bucky says, eyeing the frame that Rogers is trying to hang. “Careful!” he cries when one edge slips from the other man’s hands. “It’s only a law school diploma that we suffered seven years for.” He casts a pointed glance to Steve's own, already hanging neatly on the wall.

 

“If I move any more to the left,” Rogers grumbles, “I'll fall off the stool.” Still, he complies.

 

Finally, with both of their diplomas centered and displayed on the wall, Rogers steps down from the stool. He looks proudly upon the diplomas and their small, grungy office space. “Not bad for a few months’ work,” he says, lips curling into a bright smile. 

 

Bucky can’t even bring himself to respond sarcastically to that, so he nods in agreement instead. At that exact moment, he feels his cell phone vibrate in the pocket of his dress pants, and he fishes it out, answering the call without checking the caller name. “Barnes,” he says.

 

“Barnes,” Detective James Morita of Brooklyn’s 76th Precinct - and Bucky’s high school friend -  cries in greeting. “How ya been? What’s Becca up to now?”

 

“Hey, Morita!” Bucky replies, smiling and striding away from Rogers to prop himself against one of the two desks in the office space. “I’m good. Becca’s doing good too. She’s doing her undergrad at NYU, majoring in biochem. How’s the wife?”

 

“Anne’s good too,” Morita says. “We’re trying for a baby.” He continues after Bucky congratulates him, “Now, listen. You asked me to let you know if something came my way. Well, we’ve got a homicide. Female suspect found on the scene. Claims it was self-defense, but it looks like there might have been prior motive.”

 

“Huh.” Bucky hums. That does sound intriguing. “Tell you what. We’ll be down there in a few. Thanks so much, buddy! I owe you.”

 

“Yeah, you do, Barnes,” Morita replies humorously. “You can make it up to me by coming over for dinner some day. Of course, I won’t be doing any more favors like this.” 

 

“I don’t expect you to,” Bucky says, chuckling. “Bye.” After Morita ends the call, Bucky slips his phone back into his pocket and turns to Rogers. 

 

“Who was that?” the other man asks curiously.

 

“A friend from NYPD,” Bucky states as he begins to shovel a legal pad and a few pens into his briefcase. “He just found us our first client.” When he faces Rogers, the other man’s eyes are narrowed, and he looks on disapprovingly at Bucky. “What?” Bucky says defensively. “We could use all the help we can get.”

 

Rogers swallows hard. “Fine,” he says, a hard edge to his words. “Next time, though, you consult me before you do something like this again. We’re partners.”

 

“‘Til the end of the line,” Bucky responds sarcastically, but he nods anyways. “Now, let’s go. Our first client awaits.”

 

They take an Uber to the police station where Morita’s waiting in the lobby. “First and only time, Barnes,” he warns as he leads Bucky and Rogers to the interrogation room door. They catch the first glimpse of their possible client, a petite woman with dark waves of hair framing her face, through the small window set into the door. 

 

“You got it, Morita,” replies Bucky just as Rogers asks, “What’s her name?”

 

“Daisy Johnson,” Morita says as he thumbs the police badge hanging around his neck. “She’s twenty-two. Los Angeles transplant. Computer programmer.” He turns to Rogers. “Now, remember. You have twenty minutes to convince her to hire you, or my captain will force you guys out.” He ensures that both lawyers nod in understanding before unlocking the door with a key hooked on his belt. 

 

The woman glances up from staring at the table as Rogers slips inside the room, Bucky following. Her wrists are cuffed to the table, hands clasped together as her fingers twitch slightly, and though she’s wearing a baggy NYPD shirt, her denim jacket is darkened by dried blood. “Who the hell are you guys?” she asks, vaguely Asian features contorting in bewilderment.

 

“Ms. Johnson? My name is James Barnes,” Bucky replies, “this is my associate Steve Rogers. We’re here to help.”

 

* * *

 

“We understand you’re in some trouble.”

 

Daisy scoffs, turning her intense and quiet dark eyes on Steve. “Mr...Rogers, is it?” she says curtly. “If  _ this _ is only trouble for you, I wonder what an actual shitshow would look like for you? And you said that you’re here to help, but who exactly are  _ you _ ?”

 

Barnes steps forward and offers Daisy a soothing smile. “We’re lawyers, Ms. Johnson.” He faces Detective Morita who’s still standing by the door. “Okay, can we please get the handcuffs off the 110-pound woman?”

 

“And give us the room?” Steve adds.

 

The detective rolls his eyes but still complies wordlessly, heading to Daisy and unlock her handcuffs with a key he fishes from his pocket. Based on the friendly elbow nudge Detective Morita gives Barnes before he slips out the door, Steve assumes that there’s some old camaraderie between them. 

 

With her hands now free, Daisy wiggles her fingers and rubs her wrists before tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. She stretches her arms slightly before resuming the conversation. “I can’t afford you guys right now. Moreover, I don’t even need lawyers. It was self-defense.”

 

“Ms. Johnson,” Steve says before hesitating, “May I call you Daisy?” She only shrugs vaguely in reply, so Steve pulls up a chair and sits down, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Barnes does the same, before continuing, “Daisy, we’re willing to take your case on pro bono.”

 

“Really,” Daisy drawls, stretching out her word. “Both of you look, walk, and talk Ivy League? I’m sure it was Columbia or Harvard or something like that.” Catching a glimpse of their startled expressions, she smiles wolfishly and goes on, “So why would two fancy lawyers wanna help me?”

 

“If I’m being perfectly candid,” Barnes begins, leaning against the back of his chair with a sort of lazy charm, “you would be our first client. We only began practicing law about…” Trailing off, he checks his watch. “Yeah, we only began practicing law about seven hours ago.”

 

Shaking her head in disbelief, Daisy groans. “Are you  _ fucking serious _ ?” she mutters before raising her voice. “Look, I already told you guys that it was self-defense. I don’t need fucking lawyers.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve tells her, “that’s not what the police are calling it. They wanna rule it a homicide.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “It’s not that fucking hard. We struggled. Ward tried to grab me again. I panicked, grabbed one of my kitchen knives, and stabbed him.” Her demeanor is entirely calm and rational, and she breezes through her explanation like it’s a book report. “I didn’t plan any of it.”

 

“I wish it was that easy, Daisy,” Barnes sighes, “but your lack of cooperation with the police coupled with what they’re calling a shady past apparently spells motive. And, apparently, you’ve had a couple of very vocal disagreements with Mr. Ward.”

 

“You can’t be serious!” she cries, her demeanor finally cracking as her eyes tighten. “He tried to rape me. How do they not care about that? And what shady past?”

 

“Look, Daisy,” Steve says kindly, placing both hands on the table as he leans forward, “the fact that you were on the FBI watch list doesn’t help your case even if the FBI has nothing on or against you.” He hopes that his expression doesn’t convey his frustration with the police and their investigation. Then again, law and order never has a good track record when it comes to counts of sexual harassment or assault. Nor does academia, Steve thinks as he casts a glance at Barnes’ shuttered-off expression. “Even if the investigation points in an unfair direction, the police are only doing their jobs. And it’s ours to help get you out of this mess if you want us to.”

 

Daisy grits her teeth, frustrated. “You’re both hired,” she says brusquely. “Now, get me out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) to let me know how much you liked this fic or request a prompt. Comments and kudos would be nice too! Also, follow me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik). I have no posts currently, but I hope to remedy that soon.


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